The 98th Hunger Games: Burned
by The Ben Who Must Not Be Named
Summary: This is my take on the 98th Hunger Games if the Mockingjay Rebellion hadn't happened. Featuring OC President Spanky Mcgee.
1. Discussion

**Disclaimer: Ben does not own Hunger Games. The two OCs are mine though.**

 _The Capitol: President Mcgee POV_

It was definitely safe to assume the president wasn't a fan of the Games. At least, these last few.

President Spanky Mcgee, President of all of Panem, was in the Capitol building where he lived. Branching off his room rest a balcony, in which Mcgee was sitting on in a wooden handmade chair. He was about in his mid-forties, his blonde hair still curly over the years of aging. He was wearing a wrinkled silver suit, obviously one of those really expensive rest suits that you can wear to bed. Mcgee was pondering to himself, looking at the stars.

"What should we have for this year's games?" he mused to himself.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. Mcgee called, "Come in, it's open!" He heard a shuffling of the door opening and the guest coming toward him. He shifted his head to get a good look at the visitor. He was welcomed by the site of his associate and best friend Grover Hoopoe.

Grover was on the younger side, about in his late-twenties. He was Mcgee's right hand man, as well as the Head Game Maker for the Hunger Games. He had replaced the previous one from last year since the previous one had a… 'Incident'. Grover was wearing a red button-up shirt with a matching red-black-and white striped bow-tie. Grover gave a slight nod to the President, which the older man returned.

"Good evening, old friend," Mcgee said, pleasantly holding out his hand. Grover gripped it firmly and the two shook. "What brings you to my humble room?"

Grover's stance stiffened, which did not go unnoticed by Mcgee. As president, it was a necessary skill to be able to read people. Grover was among the easier ones to read, being Mcgee's longest friend that was still alive. Mcgee raised a careful eyebrow.

"Grover, I know you're not one for social visits. What's this about?" Mcgee asked.

"It's about the next Games here in the summer," Grover said, shifting uncomfortably.

Mcgee raised another eyebrow. The Games? Grover having trouble? No, no, that doesn't seem right. Grover never has trouble. He can succeed in anything Mcgee assigns him to do. It is why Grover was next in line as president.

"Grover, old friend, what is possibly troubling you about the Games?" Mcgee asked. "They go without a hitch every year. Sure, I'd wish for a more entertaining set of Games this year, but you can't worry about them if you have no Tributes to worry about quite yet."

"That's what I wanted to talk about," Grover said, shifting nervously again. "You see… I've noticed these past few games have been quite dull and not as interesting as some previous ones were. I was wondering if you had any suggestions for the arena this year, something that would stand out."

This was a fair question, one that Mcgee could admit he had been thinking about. The past few arenas were lame. Plain old forests, painstakingly dull deserts, even a no land water arena. These have all been done before, and they had gotten old. There needed to be a new flair, something never done before. Something extra ordinary.

Mcgee cast his gaze to the stars. They glowed so brightly. He had sometimes wished he had the power of a star. The ability to burn away all the impurities this country had left over. There has been some small upstarts all across Panem. Small rebellion's beginning to brew. He needed to stomp out the fires with fire. He needed to burn away all hope they had left. But how?

Mcgee's star gazing soon dropped to that of the Capitol itself. It was a beautiful city, he had to admit it. Its beauty that of Panem's creation, not that of the past. The past was behind them, no longer deluding the Capitol. But still, it lingered in the Districts, as if it were fresh in their minds. That they still had freedom; that they ruled equally. That they were individuals.

Thinking on this, Mcgee's thoughts began to expand, a smile playing on his lips. "Grover," he said at last, keeping his excitement from his voice. "I think I might have an arena that would serve many needs of this country. Something that will stomp out any hope left in this world. Enough to make that hope nothing but a fantastic dream, showing the whole of Panem the cold hard reality which is the Capitol."

 **BN: I didn't expect to get that out as fast as I did. I was going to work on a different project, but when I saw my SYOT submission slip wasn't doing very well, I figured this might get some readers to advertise better.**

 **These will be the main characters of the capitol. You didn't see a lot of Grover this chapter, but you'll see more of him. How well did I do with Mcgee? Like him? Hate him? Not quite sure yet? It's all right if you didn't like him. This is a new experience, something I haven't tried before. I'm going to be very open to criticism, as I need improvement for this fandom.**

 **Also, so you know, this is still a SYOT. I am in dire need for tributes. I will write more starter chapters to get a feel of other characters that will appear in this story, but I cannot start the main plot until I get Tribute submissions. I will still be gone over the summer, but please submit in that time period I am gone. I will start mass producing this story in September if I get enough Tributes.**

 **The submission form has been moved over to my profile. Please fill that out and PM me. The sooner you submit, the sooner I can start getting a plot going.**

 **So, what did you think? Do you think you can guess what the arena might be? Give me your thoughts in a review. Any and all feedback is definitely welcome.**


	2. The Two Victors

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the two OCs that appear in this chapter.**

 _District 9: Lewis Brinde_

You could always see the stars in District 9.

Lewis Brinde was laying on his back in the middle of a field, surrounded by grain. There was a small clearing in the field that Lewis always went to at night. He'd leave his house every night, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going. Why should he? No one to tell.

The owner had threatened to get him arrested once, back before his pain began. Lewis couldn't have agreed more. He deserved to be locked up, for what he did. He couldn't help but wonder if, he hadn't been chosen, if the farmer would have followed up on this threat. Of course he didn't bother Lewis now though. Knowing what he did to get where he was.

Knowing who he'd killed.

Lewis sighed, still looking at the stars. The patterns with the twinkling lights distracted Lewis of the past, of what he did. Lewis scratched his purple hair, wondering if he'd ever be accepted into the stars. The concept was appealing to him, considering he had always been a dreamer. Would he be accepted to live above consciousness? To watch above this world?

It all comes crashing down when he realizes who'd be up there with him.

Lewis shook his head, sitting up. He couldn't be remembering that. Not the Before. Not the During. He needed to focus on the After, this life. He reached into his purple suit, searching for the inner pocket. He found it and pulled out a gold pocket watch, checking the time. Midnight. Was he really out that long?

Lewis stood, placing the pocket watch back into his pocket. He was wearing a fancy purple shirt with a pink bowtie and matching purple pants. Lewis trudged on the path to home with his feet bare. No point for shoes. They only slowed him down. Back then, and now.

He couldn't help himself to think back to eight years before, in the During part of his life. He was lost in a deep cavern, what the Gamemakers after referred to as the catacombs. The rocks and skulls kept tripping his feet, his shoes too big and cumbersome. He had discarded them on the third day, not ever regretting it.

He should have kept those shoes.

The path Lewis was on came to an end. He had reached his home in Victor's Village. He was one of the five Victors still alive in District 9, three of them coming from games coming from the ninetieth to now, including himself. 9 had been spared from death for three years out of eight. Lewis wished that he wasn't one of them.

He never had a problem with the games in Before. He always found them as a source of entertainment during a world of unwanted boredom. It was the During that had ruined his perspective. The horror, the terror. The murder.

Gem.

 _No, none of that_ , Lewis thought angrily to himself. He wouldn't betray himself. He promised to stay in the After. Never go back to that memory. Ever. But Lewis, as he entered his home, couldn't help but look at the stars one last time, wondering which of them were the people he killed.

 _District 2: Gabor Insine_

The Quell was almost twenty-three years ago.

Gabor is forty years old now.

Her scream haunts him still.

He was in the final two of the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games. That was a tricky year. The rule that year was that there was no Cornocorpia, no forest, nothing. It was one huge plain. No hiding spots, no weapons. Just your own two fists and a set of teeth.

Gabor would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed strangling everyone. It was fitting. He was mentally insane, after all. He was the embodiment of insanity. The one who walked down the paths of insanity. The Wanderer of Insanity, if you would.

Gabor loved the screams he heard. Each and every one. He'd laugh at their terror, grin widely at their pain, even howl in pleasure at their agony. Every life, all sixteen of them, made him happier, satisfied him to his core, made him stronger.

Except her's.

Her name? Gabor was surprised he even remembered it. Rachel. She was a redhead, like him. Heck, she was even from the same District as he was. He remembered her quite well. Small, thin, weak. A perfect prey. One best saved for his last course of bloodshed. It was the one thing that kept him going. The promise he made to himself for her extremely pleasurable death.

Gabor was surprised she had even lasted that long. It took him three days to kill the first fifteen. The rest were killed by other Tributes, much to the displeasure of Gabor. One the fourth day, it was her and him. It was raining when they fought. She was crying, he was laughing. Despite previous thoughts, she was a good fighter. Gabor had to give her credit, lasting as long as she did. But she wouldn't last another day. Her death was his to take.

Then she screamed.

He had managed, with his strength, to break her legs. He was enjoying the fact that soon, he could have the pleasure of slowly killing her, keeping her alive as he slowly ripped out organ after organ. He was saving her for this honor. This final sacrifice. He was about to go find a rock to cut her open when her scream pierced his ears. It was loud, filled with agony, pain, terror, disbelief. But the one thing that made him shiver, that made him suffocate her instead, that made him lose his nerve for the only time was none of that.

It was her giggle amongst the scream.

Gabor had only one nightmare, repeating every night since his Quell. It wasn't of Tributes killing him, or them begging for mercy as he killed them. Those dreams he pleasantly enjoyed. No, his only nightmare was that of Rachel, giggling as Gabor cut her open and removed her organs. And, as he went to remove her heart, she whispered in a far away voice, "You make me feel… _sane_."

 **BN: Ok, so, I posted the first chapter of this story, and I realized that it might not get me enough attention. So, I decided to write this before Summer Break. Hopefully this brings in a few more readers. Also, I still need Tributes. My current count is… zero. The submission form is on my profile. I'm taking them all summer, mostly because I will not be available most of the summer. So, if you have a Tribute you wish to send, feel free to send me via PM.**

 **Now that that's done, meet Lewis and Gabor, the protagonist and antagonist outside of the Games. You will see these guys often, every few chapters at most. You'll learn a bit about them as the story goes on. Oh, and Gabor was in the replacement 75** **th** **Hunger Games, which the rule was mentioned in the chapter that there was no cornucopia, and Lewis was in the 90** **th** **Hunger Games. Just thought I clarify.**

 **So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Eh? Tell me about it over review. (Which might get you early Sponsor Points. Hint hint, wink wink.)**


	3. Source

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Grover.**

 _Capitol: Grover Hoopoe POV_

Grover Hoopoe, Head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games, was standing in his office of the Training Building. He didn't know why, but he always found he could do his best work where the Tributes year after year trained. Ironically he planned most of their deaths where they trained to not die, but hey, irony was one of his favorite uses of time.

Grover sighed, thinking back to when he was just one of the other Gamemakers. He wasn't really important then, just the one guy who simply planned annoying Tribute's deaths. Not that he hadn't enjoyed it. He loved toying with the Tributes chances, making them hope beyond belief that they were going to win then find some creative way of killing them. It was just he was never given any _credit_ for it.

Of course Head Gamemaker Name got all the attention. He was the 'brains' of the operation. Grover sneered at a nearby plant at remembrance of his old college. Name was never focused on the job. He only enjoyed watching all the tributes kill each other. Then, when the time came, he went out and claimed all the glory of causing it all. Grover couldn't but feel disgust for Name's lies. He hardly did anything with the Games, other than just watch. It was why the last few made the Capitol riot the streets.

He was kind of glad when McGee had pulled him aside to talk about the games last year. The President had always been a close friend to Grover's, one of the few people McGee could trust. Grover felt that he could admit that Name was doing a bad job and that he could do a much better job. He hadn't expected McGee to actually kill Name, supposedly for treason. Heck, Grover was shocked beyond belief when McGee told him the day of Name's execution that he was the replacement Head Gamemaker. However, Grover didn't complain. He felt honored the President didn't doubt his abilities.

Then he gave him his arena scenario.

"I'm sure you don't remember it. I sure don't, only stories my great-grandfather passed down, warning us of freedome and choice," McGee had told Grover the night before. "But, a long time ago, there was one city much like the Capitol. Less advanced, of course, but still quite bright. It was a symbol of such freedom and choice. Where people could go to escape societies like the one we live in."

"I've seen a picture from the old days," McGee continued. "Just one. It's a glorious city, shame it was destroyed when the rise of Panem came. But there was one other thing. A statue. Liberty, I think she's called."

At this point, Grover remembered McGee leaning in real close. There was a fire in McGee's eyes Grover had never seen before. A fire of hatred. "I want you to burn it."

After that, Grover had spent the past two days finding anything and everything of the past city Mcgee had described. It was hard, considering the past Presidents had destroyed any evidence of the past civilizations that Mcgee spoke off. It was hard enough to get the basic designs for the city (having found an old photograph deep within the basement of the Capitol Building) but there was no sign of any statue.

Grover sighed, leaning into his chair. "Looks like I'll have to find my neck size for my noose," he grumbled solemly. He knew President Mcgee wouldn't hang him. That was out of fashion. If anything, he would wheel out the guillotine and chop his head off in front of all Panem. Mcgee was definitely one of the more sadistic Presidents that was for sure.

Giving up, he gathered up his papers he had scattered acrossed his desk and filed them away. He was about to leave when he heard a few quiet knocks on his door. Suspicious since all the other people had left, Grover answered, "It's unlocked."

The door opened and a man walked in. This man had blonde hair, in his late teens, and wearing an open black button up shirt and tatter blue shorts. His face was chiseled, as if he were carved by the best artist in the universe. He had an aura of popularity, as if you just wanted to be around him so you'd be noticed. He had on a scowl, which did not fit in with his looks.

"You Grover Hoopoe?" he said in a low voice.

Grover regarded the man carefully. He knew how to deal with Capitolites: avoid them because they always wanted something. But this man… he wasn't like typical Capitolites. He wasn't there because he wanted something… he was there because he wanted to _give_ something.

"Who's asking?" Grover asked, deciding to take the safe approach.

"Someone who can help you with your statue issue," the mysterious man mummered. From his open shirt, he reached and produced a manila folder. He promptly chucked it across Grover's desk. Grover grabbed the folder and looked inside. There were pictures of a tall green lady, holding a torch and wearing a crown. She looked the lady Mcgee had described.

Grover looked up, suspicious. "How did you know I needed this?" Grover asked. "The Arena isn't public yet. Only President Mcgee and I know the Arena theme."

The man chuckled, his scowl replaced with a smirk. "My, ah, 'Sources' told me. Don't ask me who it is. He, ah, prefers to not be recognized in these kinds of events," he replied. Grover gave him a confused look, making the man boom in laughter. "That cracks me up everytime," he said, wiping away a tear. "Look, I helped you out. Remember that when I come asking for a favor in the future."

The man reached for the door and opened it. He was about to depart into the shadows when Grover asked, "I would like a name to the person when you come to ask me about the favor."

The man chuckled again. "That would take away all the fun, wouldn't it?" the man said, giving Grover a toothy grin. Something about it seemed… off. "As my Source would say, 'Ym eman si sdrawkcab morf a tsap rotciv morf eht tsap evif-ytnewt sreay.' I'll be seeing you later." And with that, the man promptly walked off.

 **BN: How was that everyone? I'm not sure how well done that was. It could have been a bit better, but I got what I wanted across. You now know the Arena I have chosen. I will explain more as we come closer to the games.**

 **What did you think of that new character? Trust me, you'll see him again. Quite soon, actually. As in, probably in a chapter or two. He plays a major role in the story.**

 **Also, I need to make an announcement. Due to this story not quite hitting it off like I expected, I think I will cancel the SYOT. This story will continue as planned, only with my own OCs as Tributes. That being said, I'm still accepting Tributes for the sequel. So, as you continue reading, feel free to submit the Tribute for the NEXT story. There won't be a sponsor system this time around because of this. Sorry, but this story will be souly my responsibility.**

 **So, yeah. You can still submit Tributes for the sequel, so feel free. The Reapings will begin next chapter. I will be going in order, one chapter per District. So, the next chapter will feature District 1.**

 **Also, who do you think the 'Source' is? He/she won't be revealed until a long time from now but… you've already met him/her. I'll leave it at that.**

 **Also, this story is nowhere near my priority. Sorry if you guys get captured in it, but TDASB will always and forever be my top priority. Once that series is done, perhaps this will become my major project, but until then, this is just a nice distraction. Sorry if that disappoints any of you.**

 **That's all I have. Tell me what you thought. Or don't. I'm good either way.**


	4. District 1 Tributes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Quick Note: I shall be using characters from other fandoms now, but this story will remain in the HG fandom only. I'll explain more after the chapter.**

(District 1: Josh Washington)

Josh Washington was waiting calmly on his bed of his huge mansion of a house. His room was painted gold, along with his bed. Josh himself was a well build dude with brown hair. He wore a dark green blue suit outfit, with gold rings on his fingers. He was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating what that day was.

"My sisters were sentenced to die today," he muttered to himself.

Eight years ago, in the 90th Hunger Games, Josh's older sister, Beth, was reaped. Being a male, Josh could do nothing as he saw one of his siblings walk hesitantly to the stage. He didn't know what he would do, seeing one of the only people in his life he loved walk to her possible doom.

He had watched intently that year. He was only eleven at the time (his birthday was before the reaping that year) and his parents discouraged him from watching, but he felt he had no other option. His sister was in the games. If her fate was to be sealed, he would witness it and settle the score.

She almost made it too. That year, the Gamemakers had the arena in something they called the catacombs. They were a bunch of underground tunnels, wired into a maze like pattern riddled with bones and remains. That year, they didn't bother picking up the bodies, leaving them to spook the other Tributes.

Beth was in the final three when she did something wrong. She had risked the trip to the Feast, where the other two Tribute went. They were both from District Nine, who had surprised everyone by getting that far. The girl was guarding the Cornucopia while the boy was rummaging inside. Beth had used her bow she had collected earlier and shot the girl dead.

Mistake.

The boy came out and noticed her dead. It turned out the only reason he went in was because the Cornucopia only allowed skin contact and he had no shoes. The boy looked at Beth… and a few minutes later, he won.

Josh was crushed. He started losing grip on who he was. He couldn't handle the loss of someone he cared about. But the world hated him more than just ripping one sister out of his hands.

Two years previous, his twin sister Hannah was reaped. She was only sixteen, but that hardly mattered to the Capitol. She was screwed from the start. She didn't get past the Bloodbath.

Two years later, Josh was ready. He had analized what the District Nine #$% did to his sister. He knew the strategy in surviving the Bloodbath. He knew what he must do. To avenge his sisters.

(District 1: Jessica Kimmel)

The Hunger Games were a weird time for Jessica.

She knew she was attractive. With her long blonde hair, well worked features, and beautiful purple dress she was wearing for the reaping. Everyone was looking at her because she was beautiful. She knew that, and she knew everyone else knew that.

That didn't stop her from feeling insecure.

She felt as if she was feeling judged. Sure, she had the looks… but everything else? Nothing. She had no upper body strength, no intelligence, and no sense of strategy. No one had any respect for her.

She wish it would change.

She had checked in at the Reaping and was standing with her age group and gender. She was staring at the stage, waiting for it to start. She knew she had a small chance of being chosen. Seven names in that thing. One for each year plus one. But she knew better than to doubt the odds.

Silence came across the square. Jessica watched as the person assigned to the District One Reapings walked onstage. He was terribly old and, believe it or not, the oldest Victor alive from District One. After President Snow's death, President Mcgee requested that the Victors not only train the Tributes, but Reap them as well. The guy assigned to District One went by the name of First, who had silver hair and a grim smile.

"Welcome all, to the 98th Hunger Games Reapings. I am here for District One's, like every year. As always, the tape," First said in a wisened voice. Jessica silently groaned as she watched the video she saw every year. She never understood the point. Yeah, people years ago screwed up. The Districts were willing enough to sacrifice two kids a year for their mistake. No need to rub it in their faces.

Once the video ended, two giant Bingo balls were rolled out, each filled with thousands of names. First strode over to the one on the left. "As always with tradition, ladies first," he said. He strode over and opened the hatch. He sighed as he lowered his hand into the ball and grabbed a name.

Jessica paused for a moment. She had to wonder what it must have been for First every year. He had to choose who was going to die. Sure, more often than not, District One volunteered, but on the off chance no one did, First essentially choose who died. What was that like for him? He was old… he'd been doing this for years. How many dead kids did he have on his conscious?

Jessica's trail of thought ended when First called out, "Jessica Kimmel!"

Her heart froze. _I'm… a Tribute,_ she thought. She didn't really comprehend walking up to the stage. Heck, she didn't really fight it. Her head was spinning as she stood before the District. Like she had thought, no one volunteered for her. Everyone didn't need her. She was worthless. Always worthless…

"Next, the boys," First said, stirring Jessica away from her self-hate. Before First could even step near the boy's ball, a voice rang from the crowd.

"You pick a name other than mine, and I'll screw you're dead body so #$% hard you wish your body never existed," he said. First hesitated, then turned to the crowd. A boy walked up to the stage and hoisted himself up. "Josh Washington. Boy Tribute from District One. Got it?" First's eyes seemed to beam with recognition, but he said nothing, only nodded.

Jessica stared at Josh in disbelief. She knew him, of course. They were close friends. Because of this, she knew that Josh _despised_ the games. They had taken his sisters. It was an unforgivable sin in his eyes. So why did he volunteer?

"Ladies and gentlemen, these are the Tributes from District One for the 98th Hunger Games!" First announced. Applause burst from everywhere. Jessica knew that none of it mattered. They were all clapping to her failure. Her doom. Her death.

 **BN: Hey guys! I've been working a lot on TDASB and I haven't really been giving this a lot of love. And also… I couldn't brainstorm a lot of ideas for OCs. That was my main issue. I was aware you guys probably wanted to send Tributes for me, but by that point, I had already selected a lot of the outcomes, and I didn't want to have to majorly change everything. So, to compensate, I'm using characters from some other fandoms. These aren't really crossovers as the characters undergo tremendous alterations, but they are pretty close to the actual characters.**

 **Speaking of using other characters, here's Jess and Josh from Until Dawn. I've incorporated them both into this setting, and as you can probably tell, they are changed enough to fit this environment. Kind of the same from the game, but not so much so to be the same character.**

 **What did you think? I know this might not have been you're idea of the story, but I think I can make this work. Let me know you're thoughts in a review! Or not!**

 **Also, I'm going to try to update this a bit more. TDASB is still the priority, but I'm currently not feeling inspired for it right now. I'll try to switch back and forth every once and a while, but as of now, this is my current project. (I might take time off to finish the episode of TDASB, but rest assured, it should take me long.)**

 **Like it? Hate it? Hate me? Let me know!**


	5. District 2 Tributes

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the boy tribute.**

(District 2: Emily Wolfe)

Emily was one to use something once and buy another one to do the exact same thing.

Guys were the same way.

She'd had over thirty boyfriends that year alone, at least twenty-five of them agreeing to have 'fun' with her. Once that was achieved, she dumped them right after and work on the next sucker to become ensnared by her looks.

The number used to be a lot higher. When she was fifteen, she had counted almost eighty suckers who she screwed. Sixteen, a little over seventy. She didn't really care about the age. If they were boys, she'd do them. Once she was done, on to the next. It was a simple pattern.

Recently, however, she started to turn into a major #$%. Not only would she screw whoever she could, but she'd complain and whine to them over every little thing. If she didn't arrive to school at _exactly_ 8:00, she'd #$% to whatever guy she was screwing with at that moment. If her nails weren't cut to _exactly_ the right length, she'd be moody and jerkish to everyone. Needless to say it, her boy count was low that year.

Her mood didn't improve the closer the Reapings got. Every year, one guy got chosen to go die. Granted, most District Two Tributes won, but she didn't know what would happen until it happened. She was upset about it all mostly because she didn't know if the person they pickd would have already been screwed by her or not. It made her paranoid and she went on a #$% frenzy, which in turn scared everyone away.

She had a plan though. This year, it would be different. She knew that some of the Victors would sold off as prostitutes and the like. She liked that idea. She had a way of making her life perfect. She could whine and complain all she could once she won. Oh yes. This year would be different.

(District 2: Silew Ednirb)

Suffice it to say, Silew was quite annoyed. His Source kept on rambling about everything that wasn't related to him. Granted, others needed to know about everyone else so plots could make sense, but none could blame Silew for being impatient.

He was standing in his section, waiting for the Reapings to begin. He didn't change his outfit, which was a black unbuttoned shirt and shorts. He brushed his blonde hair as he painfully waited for the Reapings to begin.

Not that they would keep him entertained. His Source had already informed him of the female Tribute from his District. Emily Wolfe. He knew her by reputation only. And he was quite appalled by her. She wasn't at all like she was in her actual fandom, according to his Source, but then again, these introduction chapters were just to give the audience a feel for what's to come.

Silew sighed in relief as the District Two Escort walked on the stage. Last year, a new Victor for District Two won, which secured him the spot for escort. His name was Lucky, and that was legit how he had won his games: luck. When axes were thrown, arrows shot, Mutts released, he so happened to look down or duck. He didn't even kill anyone, which was shameful in District Two. Lucky walked onstage and got boos.

"Calm down!" he said to the crowd. He was wearing a green suit and had on a green top hat. He had a four leaf clover in his breast pocket. He had green hair. "All this green was supposed to make me lucky in not hearing you yell at me!"

"You're a disgrace to the District!" someone from behind Silew yelled hatefully.

"You should have died!" someone else yelled.

"I haven't screwed you yet! I'm available!" Silew heard someone yell. (According to his Source, Emily Wolfe.)

"Where's Gabor? He deserves to stand there, not you!" came a yell. Silew nodded in agreement to that one. Gabor, according to his source, was already on the train. He would help train them, but he was meant to be mysterious. Silew could understand that.

Lucky frowned and sighed in defeat. "Fine, let's get this over with," he said. The video began to roll and Silew groaned. He knew his Source had to include the video, despite how much he hated the thing. He just wanted this over already.

Once the video finished playing, two hamster balls were rolled out. Lucky wandered over to the one on the right. "Ladies first," he said. "And may luck be on your side."

"Wrong line dummy!" someone shouted. Lucky grumbled as he drew the name. However, before he could read it, Silew heard someone yell, "I volunteer to screw… I mean, as Tribute!"

Silew nodded as Emily Wolfe went forward. His Source stated as much. He waited impatiently as Emily was introduced. Then, Lucky went to the second ball. Once he picked a name, Silew knew exactly what it read. "Silew Ednirb!" Lucky called.

All as his Source had predicted.

 **BN: Yeah… this was NOT my best work. I'm normally better at integrating characters, but something's up with my mojo. It's been acting weird. But, it is what it is.**

 **So, there's Emily from Until Dawn. I understand she is WAY out of character… but I'll try to fix that when we get to the train chapters. I didn't mean for it to be THAT bad, but like I said, my mojo is acting weird. Also, Silew is** _ **mine**_ **. And as for how he appeared in the Capitol… he'll explain it later.**

 **Anyone able to guess Silew's Source yet?**

 **Also, I NEED MASSIVE HELP! I'm having trouble telling if I'm doing a good job or not. That's with everything I do, but any feedback you guys can give me, I need it badly. I might be able to revise this chapter a little if I have a little help, but just any feedback at all in how I can make this better is much appreciated.**

 **One last thing. I know I said this was going to be my major project… but with my mojo dying like it is, I need a break. So, when I come back, I'll probably go to TDASB, since I can naturally write Total Drama better than Hunger Games. Don't worry, I won't forget this fic, but until my mojo comes back, no promises in anything.**

 **Like? Hate? Murder? Let Ben know in the exclusive Benview! It's a review, but with the word Ben in front of it!**


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